


My Lord

by assez



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: After-grave Voldemort, Ambivalency, Anal Sex, Bottom Severus Snape, Dark Harry Potter, Death Eaters related issues, Devotion, Dominance, Explicit Sex, Leadership, M/M, Mentor Severus Snape, Minor Character Death, Powerful Harry, Rough Sex, Sub!bedSeverus, Switching, Top Severus Snape, Top!InteligenceSeverus, one-time top Severus Snape, powerful Potter, sacrifices (others), sacrifices (sex)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-24
Updated: 2019-09-24
Packaged: 2020-10-27 10:09:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20758646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/assez/pseuds/assez
Summary: Or the Anthem of The Boy Who Lived to Become a Monster and His Very LowlyServant Born to Save the Hero Locked in One Room to Perform the Last Dance.





	My Lord

_ Or the Anthem of The Boy Who Lived to Become a Monster and His Very Lowly Servant Born to Save the Hero Locked in One Room to Perform the Last Dance. _

_ _

“This is only gonna hurt.”

And hurt only it did.

_ My Lord’s wish is my command. _

He lost enough already.

"Severusss."  
He loses.

And Potter needs him still. Maybe more than ever.

It is not a matter of choice. It never was.

"Severusss."  
So he straightens his back and straightens the pose of his shoulders. Never showing defeat. Never showing fear. Never abandoning the shreds of his dignity until the very last moment.

And enters.

“My Lord,” he kneels, holding his habit at his breastbone, allowing the veil of hair to hide him for just the fraction, for just a moment, before it starts.

Again.

"Severusss."  
__  
"Avada Kedavra."  
  
Was it his voice or Voldemort's that penetrated the thick air like a shaft of green steel?  
  
Then he fell.  
  
"Severusss."

It is just like a pacing.

  
His tone deadly poisonous in his silence. He no longer controls his self.

“Your bond with Voldemort is broken now.”

He hisses silently into his ear.

That is true. Thanks to Potter being the one destroying it.

He stands too near, too silent and entirely too calm.

“As my husband you will face no further recriminations for your actions as a Death Eater,” he continues. Then again, if dead or alive, a toy, a prisoner or a husband, very little difference was to be found there in Severus’s opinion.

Because he owed Potter and Potter owned him that way.

True, Severus will never tell that to Potter this way. Never.

Some things are best unstated.

"Severusss." 

  
Reluctant at first, those initial touches like a clawing of desperate animal. It confirms his humanity to Severus though, so he lets him always.

\- _I never believed you to be of flesh and blood. _– 

Soon, Potter’s touches become bolder, prodding him in places uninvited and unwelcomed.

\- _You're a filthy murderer. Why? Tell me why!_

Even after that first demand, the first answer, the first kiss, born of hatred, sourness and anger, Potter wanted an answer every single time.

Severus had given in and allowed the boy to explore, to punish, to hate to extinguish the fire and with it the danger.

No one should have so much power. Certainly not a boy.

“Do you have it for me, Severus?”

“I’m sorry, Master.”

He knew he would need to cast healing spells, but for now, he would let the injuries linger. It felt right that he should suffer a bit, even if only temporarily. It was only right there were consequences for his actions.

It hadn’t taken him long to control his anger this time. He so much hoped Severus will have the potion finished by their next encounter, but no… lubric-less sex was not pleasurable, even for the attacker, as Harry found out. He lost his control. And the worst part so far seemed to be that Snape was expecting that.

It could have been much worse if not for his surprise how well Severus took it.

Severus.

It was still strange to name his mother’s child-friend and Dumbledore’s murderer that way.

How many times had he had to do the same?

He only hoped that tonight, after Severus had had some time to recuperate, he will have the energy inducing potion finished. Or, at least, new batch of the control-straightening one.

The thought helped Harry to fall asleep.

Severus moved forward a little and took care to position himself correctly before sitting down firmly. Harry gasped and his body went rigid strained almost to the point of pain in an effort not to succumb to the sensations threatening to utterly overwhelm him. His hand automatically shot up to catch and claw into Severus’s hips. He was finding it very difficult to think clearly right now but he knew he didn’t want things to be over too quickly.

Severus was panting now, his cheeks painted with pink, lips slightly open and moisty. He so much craved to fuck him while kissing those but that was impossible from this position if Severus didn’t wish so.

His claw-like fingernails dragging along the white-smooth skin, leaving red patterns in its wake.

His whole body jerked and spasmed.

_ Like a painting. So beautiful. The black beneath him. So tight. So smooth. Flushed cheeks. White complexion. Patterns of old scars crisscrossed all over his body. _

_ The flaccid prick in the nest of deep brown curls. _

_ Lovely prick, lying flat against the cream plains of his too-thin belly. _

_ Harry stroked the madly beating vein in his too silent form watching him and his every movement with painstaking precision. _

_   
Severus rolled over, offering his backside for Harry’s use. _

_ And Harry delved in, sinking, drowning, his breath stopping out of loss of control of the excitement. _

_ Harry stroked the deity of his back’s cream-like flesh, caressing the living-breathing-warm and moving image in front of him. _

_ _

Severus did not bring with himself the energy inducing potion, nor did he bring the control-straightening one. He drugged Potter with lust-inducing potion in order to calm him down. To help him get the storm out of his system, staying locked with him all the time, locking their doors behind them, licking his wounds bout after bout of the all-destroying explosion. He let him ride him, bite him, drink him, eat him, only saying ah or oh to things and places rediscovered by the boy and allowing him unlimited access to anything and everything, hence surprised when Potter took very little giving so much more.

"Severus."  
  
Harry's voice startled Severus from an uneasy slumber, haunted by images of the war.

Casting Lumos, he looked around.

"Master, can I help you?"  
  
Severus was owned. From the tips of his toes to the roots of his hair, the boy was all over him, prodding, pinching, pulling and biting. "Severus," he said in a sweet voice, "turn around, lovey." 

Harry grinned his most angelic grin. "I want to ride you properly."  
  


It was his favorite pastime these days to deny him pleasure and excite him with pain. Severus _hated_ pain. And he hated to be aroused by pain. His knobby knees hurt from kneeling on the floor, wrists tied behind his back, waiting on his master to come back from a raid, or a task to save or destroy half of the world as was expected of him to do these days.

In the meanwhile, Severus was ordered to wait for his return.

Severus hated to do as was told to him by Potter.

That day, Potter’s people were killed on a raid as Severus heard from the grapevine’s bests widow, and Potter was furious, murdering fifty people by one flick of his hand. Severus dosed himself with painkiller, healing potion and the strongest dose of lust potion and while awaiting Potter’s return, he got incredibly horny.

By the time the door finally opened, his whole body hummed with trepidation and unbearable need. He could tell by one look in Potter’s face he knew what Severus has done and was right now considering options.

To make it easier on him, Severus turned his back to his Master, shedding the clothes to the floor till he was completely naked, then whispering thickly over his shoulder: “Fuck me till we don’t know who we are,” he ordered Potter breathlessly, then bent over, spreading his arse cheeks apart for better access, offering himself shamelessly.

The keys from Potter’s hand went flying on the shoe cabinet.

For all that it surprised Severus, but Potter scissorsed him before entering him, taking him right on the couch’s headrest. Then in the bedroom. And kitchen floor. And bathroom’s shower – then on kitchen table while breakfasting. And over the sink when brushing teeth. Then in the bedroom’s chair, while tired and sleepy, yet still horny for his Master’s sake.

Then, flushed with heat and in the throes of passion, Severus did what he never so far had. He called Potter’s name with loud and rich voice he didn’t recognize, feeling twice that tired.

Potter didn’t say anything back then, but the next day he did what he never had, nor had it done Severus’s previous Master. He took Severus with him to the strategist room, taking Severus there with him since then.

On the contrary to this little success, Severus's pleasure in bedroom had been denied him more and more often since then.

It was that time when he started regretting he didn’t call Potter arrogant little piece of shit and be done with him for all eternity right after the fall of the Dark Lord. He should treat him like a brat he was, not like a Lord he made himself to be. He should never have silently join him in the midst of war casualties, burials and looses counting, making himself Potter’s kick side, then winning the position as his… what? What he was really? He called himself Potter’s bodyguard, for someone had to make sure Potter will be alright after everything, and Severus, whose life was devoted to make sure Potter’s will be saved, was unwilling to let Potter die after their accomplishment. It went well beyond Lily’s grave since a long time ago. 

But now the little piece of shit irked him still the same, or even more, and he dared to _choose him_, to make him his personal catamite. To lock him in this silent hell to protect him. Potter-_him_! And he just belittled him further by not allowing him to come unless he himself explicitly allows it. Not allowing him to change the position Potter chooses for them. Not allowing Severus to accompany him to any of those raids.

The bastard.

"Let's do it the other way tonight," suggested Severus, stroking his knuckles along the boy's breastbone, never looking him in the eye anymore.

For safety’s sake.

It was never clearly stated how much of Potter resides in Potter and how much of the Dark Lord never left Potter after the former Dark Lord’s demise.

Severus then laid on the bed, hooked his legs behind his arms and presented himself for Potter to use. 

"I'm not going to relent, Severus. Turn around. Now."  
Severus let his hands and legs fall back, listening to the order. The boy's words though not cruel were like a well-deserved shower of slaps to his face.

"I like you that way," he said, poking Severus' side.

Severus wanted to bite that hand off right now, but endured.

Unfathomable does not suit Potter, decided Severus one day when he listened to the plan Potter told to the quiet room. He was  leading another raiding party tonight to clear out yet another Death Eater den.

“You all know why we’re here and you understand the risks. Those of you who are not into our cause fully may as well stay here or leave... those of you prepared… come,” h is final word before  pulling up his hood over his head. Not a whispered word, not an astray look, nothing at all was heard nor anyone dared not to go with Potter to vengeance their dead. Everybody followed him off of the door to the night leaving their wives, widows, daughters, very little sons, very old ones and girlfriends behind.

And Severus, of course.

He was not allowed to accompany them.

Severus’s eyes followed them until the dark swallowed them completely, then he retreated to their rooms, to their bedroom exactly, angry, frustrated and waiting, waiting for their New Lord to come.

The Lord of the Light was he named by mass of unknown wizards and witches from all over the world. They didn’t know anything. They didn’t know Potter and most certainly they didn’t have know a thing about their New Lord, Light Lord, beasty little greedy shitty Lord of Light. They hoped. They dared, they hoped and they dared to hope and entrust their safety into his hands, hands of a boy who didn’t know a thing about self-control, yet ruled it all – or most of it. It was most probable he would sooner destroy them all with that before he learns how to use and command it.

Yet they all hoped he will save them from all of their ill-fated lives and deaths.

Those fools.

Naïve. Ignorant. Uninformed fools.

Severus pitied them sometimes. Other times he despised them.

Then again, they were blameless, a thing that could not be said about him. Or Potter for that matter now.

Most of the time, however, he just plainly envied them their freedom.

Severus’s dispassionate reaction to Potter’s return was: he put the book and the glasses aside and said: “You can mount me, if you want to.”  
There were casualties on those raids, but – apart from that one occasion, which wasn’t even, as Severus heard, Potter’s fault but some fool who did not listened to the order and kept doing thins his way – never any members who fought alongside Potter. It gave people courage. _He_ gave people the so much needed hope and courage. They would follow him to hell and back.

Shit. Severus himself would follow him anywhere, and he knew muchmore then them.

Fools. All of them and more so him.

It was at least three days now since he was allowed to leave their bed. Severus changed his position on the mess. The sheets were soaked with sweat, blood and semen, pearls of vomit and dried urine. Yet the shit remained to stain it. Or the fluids of internal organs. Yet Potter kneeled behind him the thousand’s time in succession and thrusted into him like the first time three days before.

Sensation of revulsion took over when Voldemort's wand was rolling of off the bed sheets to the ground towards cupboard and the tipof Potter’s own wand poked in Severus'. As soon as the tip was pushed inside, a Lubricus spell was cast so that Severus abused insides were covered in slick, healing and this time slightly numbing heat. The wand glided in and out, in and out, and Severus caught the expression of Potter’s rapture over the sight in the window glass opposite them before the instrument was being replaced by a much plumper intruder. 

Severus gritted teeth, pushing back for smoother entrance. Then the pounding began and nothing could possibly save him from Potter’s never faltering stamina. The bruises on the farer side of his hole could not be healed by such a superficiously spread painkiller.

“I asked you for two fucking things, two things you are good at – why could you not bring those two potions?” asked Potter pounding mercilessly, brutally even, punishing with every move.

“Tell me – Potter –“ grunted Severus, his breath being erratic and he began to grasp for air when Potter started pounding right into the prostate, “can you – spell the – word – _addictive_?”

“Wha’?” asked Potter out of his mind already, his libido not diminishing in the slightest thanks to the excessive amount of power inherited by victory over Voldemort.

Usually, it took for Potter to kill someone to douse it for a few days, and Severus started to hurt all over, started to fucking hate that, started to hate Potter for not finding at least several lovers for venting this state of his.

For Severus for sure could not take this pace for much longer and he would end dead if Potter won’t stop and slow down.

In the short but as well in the long sort of sense.

“Ad-d-d-d,” tried Potter and Severus pushed violently his arse into Potter’s crotch, throwing him out of rhythm, squeezing his prick in his inside’s tightly to force him to come.

“Addictive,” panted Severus still when he accomplished his task of forcing Potter to let go. “Dangerous. Not permitted for daily use. Look that up in the dictionary together with prematurely dead and _then_ come to talk again,” Severus, making his intentions very clear, throw Potter of off the dirty and soaked sheets, throwing them around himself, turning to his side intending to sleep the next month, inviting Potter to rape him, if so necessary, from this position, and this position only while Severus will sleep.

Maybe Potter took his advice too much to the heart. He took his advice so seriously that he extended the “not permitted for daily use” to their bedroom as well and stopped visiting him there, which was really convenient the first couple of days for Severus who really needed to recuperate after the bout of sex and anger, so much that he noticed only after four days that the sex and the visits stopped. What seemed as infinitesimal luck at the beginning however got really worrying now, for if Potter was not here with Severus to kill excesses of his energies then where he was and how long before he hurt someone with it unintentionally?

Now it was a whole week and Severus really started to worry, determined to find Potter and talk to him.

But he was nowhere to be found until the next week with this stupid intro: “I need to thank you, you saved my life.”

“WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?” shouted Severus right back worried sick. Furious. He didn’t feel so out of control for a very long time now.

“Hunting,” clipped Potter in.

“Hunting? Hunting what?!”

“Death Eaters,” answered Potter calmly, detached.

Shit!

“Are you out of your mind? Do you have any idea how dangerous this is?”

“I can take care of myself –“

“Not for you, Potter, you idiot, for _other people_,” insisted Severus and according to Potter’s expression he hurt his feelings, but he didn’t pay much attention to that when he grabbed Potter’s hand and dragged him to the broom shed on the first floor, locking them conveniently and hurriedly undoing his pants, shedding them down and turning his back to Potter, ordering: “Take me. Now.” Then he braced himself against the expecting onslaught.

But Potter stated: “No,” quite coldly and Severus turned around. Oh shit, this little shit’s pants weren’t yet even undone.

Severus stepped to Potter’s side and his fingers daftly unfastened Harry’s pants, roughly pulling out Harry’s straining cock.

Potter staggered, catching himself and putting palm on one of the walls, with arousal filled command: “Stop.“ Severus stopped, looking disbelievingly to his face. It was at least once a day previously now he can wait a whole two weeks? “No, I said,” repeated Potter firmly.

“Why not?”

“I said so.”

“So, I heard but why?”

“I –“

“If you have a substitute, then tell me.”

“Wha’? No. No!”

“Then why,” demanded Severus impatiently, hand still on Potter’s twitching cock.

“I will never take you against your will again.”

“How sentimental,” growled Severus disbelievingly.

“I am serious.”

Severus panted and stared: “Am I not offering myself clearly enough to you?”

“No – yes!“

“Then what is it?”

“I hurt you. I will never do that again.”

He will never do that again, repeated Severus for himself sourly. To him. Never hurt him. Then…

“Then who, may I ask, you’ve chosen to hurt? Do you plan on premature death of any other of your friends?”

“I will manage, thank you,” Potter’s expression closed.

“No, you won’t, which is exactly my point,” and he slide his hand up and down Potter’s cock. He nearly came just from that simple touch, Severus noticed, then his hand was brutally grabbed and dragged away from Potter’s crotch.

“I forbid you –“ Potter breathed raggedly, his eyes burning holes into him, “– to ever do that again – do you und-?!”

Then Severus kissed him, returning his ownership of the grabbed hand to himself once again, effectively shutting Potter up, then leaning into him, returning his hand on Potter’s prick.

Then he got angry, their present conversation catching up with his brain already – how Potter dare to remind him of the fucking disgusting brutal prolonged weekend of punishment in their bed? Then he got really angry – how he dares to make decisions for himself, how he dares to disappear, how dare he to endanger everybody else? Severus’s pulse quickened. He despised the boy underneath him. His reluctance to make anything to move melted into rage. Will Potter stick to his very own advice and find himself other lovers? Did he fuck someone else instead of him in those two weeks? Severus’s hands were on Potter’s arse in an instant. He swept all the brooms with Potter’s for as he raised and leaned him against the windowsill, the kisses more like licking of dogs now, when Severus shortly stopped, spitting at his palm, returning to the previous task of licking Potter. Severus wetted the head of his cock then, then Potter’s hole. They both looked into each other’s eyes. Then he pushed in, splitting him in two by Potter’s expression of agonising pain. Potter grabbed his hands, nails painfully dug in, perspiration started pounding out of his body, visible only on the forehead for now. He was not looking at him.

Severus sheathed himself in more, deeper, then commanded: “Look at me. Look at me, Potter, now.”

Since holding half of Potter’s muscular body, he adjusted his grip of him while waiting for the man to look at him.

Potter did so with enormous restraint.

“Never leave me like that, can you hear me? You have obligations. You must fulfil your task. Hear me? Answer me!”

“Yessir,” hissed Potter lost in lust and pleasure.

Good. Very good indeed.

Severus was in heaven. It was such a good sign Potter let himself being fucked, leaving the control over the action in Severus’s hands Severus wanted to celebrate.  Whatever unpleasantness had passed between them during the last few weeks, Harry's behavior since he won the war, everything was forgotten in this moment of bliss. For the first time since war Severus could imagine freedom. For the first time he felt they might win.

Spring in steps, he turned to see his world crashing in front of his eyes.

Potter was strangling the Weasley boy in front of his while fight group, his eyes red, his magic cracking in the air around, heavy with rain and doused with unspent magic.

Severus left the food in the kitchen tabletop, coming nearer to the scene – running to the end: “Whatever he said or done, it is salvable,” he breathed in one go when near Potter’s grip. “Let him go.”

Potter’s grasp loosened a little when he realized who is talking to him.

“Yeah. Listen to you, whore,” shouted Weasley at Potter’s face, talking for Potter’s sake onto Severus. “That is exactly what you do these days. Listening to anyone but him!” barked Weasley showing an accusing finger into Severus’s face.

“Calm yourself, Weasley,” growled Severus, disinterested.

Potter’s grip tightened on Weasley’s neck. Weasley started rattle, his foot kicking desperately the thin air.

Severus tuned Weasley out, coming nearer, putting a hand on the death grip, holding Potter’s hand over Weasley’s neck. “You don’t care for him. You care for me. Let him go and take me,” said Severus, scratching Potter’s fingers lightly. Carefully. Playfully even, turning his back to him. Shedding the outer robes in invitation before looking over his shoulder, then making first step from all the rest to their bedroom. One of these days, Severus wondered – when Voldemort takes over the body and instead of Potter will fuck him, will he even recognize it?

The door closed behind them.

As a whore he felt. But maybe for slightly different reasons than Weasley had on his dirty mind.

He opened further in an invitation, receiving the boy's thrusts and enjoying the overwhelming power he possessed by being the only one who could calm someone so… so dangerous. He enjoyed the banter and he enjoyed the means things got calmer. And even if demanding, Severus possessive nature purred with bliss every time Potter make sure _Severus_ has no one but him. 

That was just mind blowing and unbelievable. Even more so than the reconciliation sex.

Potter was beautiful in his own way, but more so he was a passionate kind of opponent, wizard and lover. Being connected to Harry was like being connected to the earth’s magic instead, humming and thrumming and forever alive.

And he felt oh so much wanted, needed even. Being an anchor to the world. Potter was bound to tire of him, sure, but after their first time together, he nevertheless had decided to enjoy to its fullest. 

Severus braced himself on the rumpled sheets, awaiting storm.

With every stroke of his gorgeous cock Harry touched chord inside him, awakened and thrumming like a string of his hurt and ragged, aching magic core, and Severus had to shut his eyes to keep tears from spilling over, throwing his head back to the sheets. 

Severus was close, so close that he could taste it, when Potter out of blue stated: “I’ve turned into a monster.”

Severus grasped the strong arms holding his hips and arse, pushing him to an action, every muscle in his body taunt and starting to knot unpleasantly.

“And the worst thing is it keeps getting stronger,” continued Potter, his thrusts shallow and precise. “I really tried not to be the freak my aunt and uncle considered me to be,” he said with a pensive tone. “I tried to cut it its head, this thing growing inside me. I tried to escape it. I tried to kill it. I tried to get rid of it. I tried. I was not successful.”

He thrusted in violently.

Severus’s bite his tongue not to cry.

“Ever since I remember everything inside of me just wouldn’t settle in, you know?”

Another violent thrust.

Severus dug his fingernails into the sheets.

“And after the war…” his voice died at that, never finishing the sentence, but oh so much paying attention to Severus’s body. “Will you turn your back on me one day, Severus?” green eyes looked down on him, turning his whole green attention back at him.

“Don’t call me that,” hissed Severus.

One thrust send Severus’s head banging against the metal of their bed.

Severus’s let Potter’s hand be, catching his ringing, too bright, hurting head instead.

“I didn’t give you the permission,” finished Severus anyway, but another so strong thrust never came.

“And if I seem too dangerous, would you be scared?” asked Potter, curious. A thrust.

What a question. Severus was startled out of thinking about the answer by long lick applied on his chin and face. He looked at Potter.

“Do I have to run and hide because I am different from the rest?” asked Potter and thrusted into him. Severus let his head be then grabbed Potter’s arm once again, awaiting the next violent thrust that never came. Potter looked down on him, asking: “Will you still love me if I am no longer who I used to be?”

What a rude and cheeky assumption Potter makes! “Are you planning on moving from the country?” asked Severus to make the matter lighter, to fuck him out of his dominance. Potter asked unanswerable questions.

“Will you still love me if you fear me?”

On the other hand, he asked questions which answers he knew and didn’t want to hear. Time to change tactics.

“I won’t fear you,” answered Severus.

“Oh? How so?” asked Potter, not believing him a word but curious about the direction of their talk.

“You’ll learn to control yourself.”

Of all of the things Potter’s expression got unbearably sad. But not to force anybody to look at it, hi head lowered onto Severus shoulder. He hides himself in Severus’s crook, hiding his sadness with that.

His cock still fully erect and inside Severus.

“Does this do you any good?” asked Severus finally relaxing under Potter’s weight and crawling one hand in the mop of hair on his shoulder.

“It is pleasurable.”

“It should have helped to get rid of the excessive power, Potter,” frowned Severus.

“Oh. Then nope, but after I always get reeeally calm.”

Severus growled internally. What a surprise.

Aloud, he said: “You are not a monster, Potter. You are just an uneducated kid who will learn to deal with what was given to him. As all of us do.”

Potter purred into him. Tentatively moving hips back and forth, rubbing Severus’s prostate in its wake.

“If you are with me and wear your robes, I always feel that my presence isn’t the blackest in the room.”

“Nice to serve you,” growled Severus this time in real. “Any other ways I can be of use?”

Potter heightened himself, looking down, punctuating his unreadable mess of mind with movement of his hips.

“Oh, pun unintended,” added Severus too late.

Severus promised to wear the blackest of his robes on the tomorrow the gathering. True. If Potter will be good enough tonight.

Harry was woken by violent pounding on their bedroom door. He was on his feet and fully dressed in an instant, hence waking Severus effectively. Harry threw open the door and levelled his wand at the man – Creevey was covered in blood and nearly hysterical

“Raiding pa-party three... - _God_, they’re _all_…”

Harry grabbed Creevey by the shoulders, shaking him: “Stay with me. Are they all dead?” 

“C-c-captured,” Creevey broke, sliding to the floor.

“See a healer and get yourself together,” commanded Harry, already moving past Creevey, running down the stairs, sending out summons.

He was embodied leadership when his voice rang out above the noise of the group, ordering and commanding to the left ad to the right. Rescuing protocol. Group Alpha, Beta, Delta, Omega… Collecting our dead is not a priority. – Potter’s most loyal friends would be horrified. Albus would be proud of him.

All the while Severus lurked, waiting in the shadows, watching them. Silently with the rest of the house he watched as Potter’s group go.

Fuck the idiots and their less then sufficient laugh of a strategies.

“Would you kill for me, Severus?”

Severus eyes fell shut. Not for the name but for the sentiment. It already begun and maybe, maybe if he was not so blind, he would know it started a long time ago.

Goose bumps raised along Severus' spine, but Severus only turned his head slightly to ask question over the shoulder: “How can you know I already didn’t?”

“Did you?” was the immediate answer in between two thrusts.

Severus bite his tongue savagely, tasting blood: “I did,” he responded anyway, disgusted by the succession of thrust that followed. Thrusts of victory and excitement. A bile rose in his throat and his vision started to blur.

Potter thought he holds some kind of power over Severus for that. He didn’t.

Not the one he would like to.

And here he was, the old fool, on his hands and knees, thinking about why Potter’s open nature won’t talk with a living soul about their already well-known nature of acquaintance.  In the end, he wanted some sort of acknowledgement about the status of their ship, it seemed.

For Harry, the fool, to be open again.

For sheer vanity of this track of thoughts, he stopped thinking, g iving in to his tormentor, Severus let himself be drowned in the suffocating explosion of intense bliss.

Orgasms seemed to be better these days then tactics, strategies and plans. The bliss of forgetting. Even for a little while. What a gift.

“Would you kill on my order?” ruined it Potter this time.

“No,” deadpanned Severus, then he turned to Potter looking at him: “Will you kill me for that?”

“No.” Potter’s tone sounded hollow.

When they returned, Severus came to their bedroom, knocking heavily on the door. He stared up at him with those cold eyes of his: “Husband of mine. How convenient we meet again. Are you going to invite me in?” He kicked the door open, not waiting the invitation, his aid kit at hand. “Strip,” he ordered the doors yet open.

Potter moved: “I apologize. I never realized you are in command here.”

“I dully note you don’t realize much whatsoever.”

Potter frowned, then started unbuttoning his shirt from the collar, his movements jerky and unstable. Severus’s patience wore out. He came to him and grabbed the shirt, loosening it from Potter’s pants and started opening it from the other side.

Now, Severus had an image.

“I need to deal with these injuries,” he commented to the deep gash on Potter’s right biceps, already opening the kit.

“Yep,” answered Potter, sitting heavily on the bed, peeling the previously white t-shirt under the white shirt off of the wound someone put a charmed gaze onto, so the constant bleeding wound was relatively clean, and the blood swiped off. Potter winced profoundly.

Severus was horrified: “This is what one of your dragon shit calls treated wound?” asked Severus, appalled.

“They tried. They are not mediwizards, Severus.”

“Nor am I and don’t call me that.”

“Would Sev be better?” provoked him Potter. He sighed when he did not receive the craved for response. “I should have seen to these injuries earlier.” He raised his hand surely to make the work harder and to ruin some more tissue or infect it.

Harry started as Severus’s hand caught his own. His eyes snapped upwards and met Severus’s severe gaze, “You are correct, you should have seen to these injuries far earlier than now.”

“Will that hurt?” asked Potter.

“Of course!” snapped Snape, dabbing at the wound harshly. “Of all the things I really can’t accuse you of first thinking then re-acting,” scolded him Severus unsatisfyingly while curing the injuries with deep-set frowns and disagreeing shakes of head disinfecting it with alcohol.

“It was Wormtail,” confessed Potter in a whisper. “It is his fault and I will get him for that stealing of what is mine.”

Resigned and treating to the wound, Severus relented: “I know.”

True to Severus’s words people only now, after seeing this scene, started to truly fear Potter.  
"_Crucio_."  
  
Wormtail writhed on the floor. "One, two, three," Harry counted under his breath before he said, "_Finite Incantatem. _Let's try again.”

Wormtail kneeled before Potter. His face a show of pain and despair.

"My Lord," he said in a voice full of trepidation, eyes watery. “mercy. Have a mercy.”

"_Crucio_."  
Squealing sounds filled the room.

“I’m not your Lord, Wormtail, your Lord does not exist anymore,” delivered Potter coolly. “As for the mercy, you better then I know that it does not work with you. So…” Potter raised his wand again.

“All right. All right, I will take you to them,” shouted Pettigrew in defense, hands raised. He must have known it is his doom.

“You, dear Peter,” he came to stand beside his parent’s former friend, looking him down, “will do much more, so much more,” he said in a sweet voice, his most angelic grin soured Severus’s very soul at that moment. It was like heaven turned deathly ice-cold all of a sudden.

On Harry's coldblooded nod, Wormtail stretched out his left arm and pulled the sleeve back past his elbow. The Dark Mark glared in an aggressive red, eyes of all present in the room on him and his kneeling form, wands at ready.

He summoned them and less then ten minutes later all laid dead on the stone floor of Grimmauld Place – except Wormtail. And Severus, of course. He should be terrified how easy for Potter would be to stop his life through The Dark Mark, but truth was, he did no longer considered death the worst of possible options.

Now Harry pressed his forefinger to the cankerous brand on Pettigrew’s hand, breaking the skin with his fingernails: “You were the means to kill my parents. Don’t take it the wrong way, I don’t wish to single you out, but, so I make sure and can sleep well and be _sure_ – _Avada Kedavra_.”

It should not be so surprising to see Potter kill for he already knew about the raids. But then again, he saw him grow up since he was eleven years old, he knew how much Dumbledore believed in his ability to love, he taught him once in their lives and knew his inability to use killing curse even on the Dark Lord himself, so… from this perspective, surprising it was.

When his magic began to flow, running through his body with the force of an electric current to accumulate there, he knew the time for sex – or hunt – or whatever it was begun, so Severus stopped questioning that and turned to go to their bedroom, Potter’s otherwise not unwelcomed magic now clawing like uncut nails under his skin.

“You never say anything on those meetings.”

“Am I invited to participate on the raids?”

“No.”

“Then I have no reason to.”

“I would value your opinion.”

“And I your trust, but then again, let’s not go ahead of ourselves – I most probably wouldn’t.”

_ Wormtail's screams and wails echoed through the vast space of the throne room, and he struggled against Harry's grip. After immobilizing Wormtail, Harry's attention riveted on Severus. Pale against the rainbow colors that were now swirling behind Harry's eyelids, his lover's face impassive. _

__ "Severusss."  
  
His lover opened his eyes, and it was as though he looked right in Harry's face. "My Lord," those thin lips formed. 

_ Wormtail was lying motionless on the floor, the brand on his arm a smoldering black. Harry’s magic released Wormtail and that instant the fat little man vanished. _

_ Harry blinked once, twice,  _ waking up…__

Harry closed his eyes and concentrated.

“They are really not happy with me.”

“Nor am I.”

“It is time to go,” said Harry.

“I… know.” It was hard to admit.

Harry’s lover's face materialized from the fog behind his eyelids once again and Harry tired to shook all of the feelings from his senses, clearing himself out.

In vain.

“They are really angry. Mad. And scared. angry because mad and mad because scared. They can’t figure it out. They can’t figure _me_ out.”

And Harry knew that if he only concentrated enough, if he kept focused, that the world would be able to kill him not even knowing it. The world. The people in it. He hesitated if not let it be that way.

“It is no longer secure to be near me,” admitted Harry.

“I shall not fear one of my students. _Ever_,” said Severus firmly, arms crossed on his chest.

“Which is understandable and very brave of you, but we both now that in my case it is foolish.”

“Might be so. Still not scared,” clipped Severus in, pecking on the cherry at the table.

“Where are we going?”

Harry’s hear did a violent twitch. “Me. I. Myself. I go at the sea.”

Severus gritted his teeth, straightening. “Where? I hope it will not be some overheated destination for the fumes from the potions…”

“It will and you don’t care because you won’t go. My last word. It is too dangerous.”

“Duly noted,” drawled Severus sleepily. “You will owe me for dragging me to the south.”

“You will not go, Severus. Stay here. Take care of this world. Goodbye,” the suitcase cracked when closed and shrinked. Harry took a step to the door. One. Two.

_ Disapparating _ .

Severus rolled his eyes then, throwing the cherry behind his back, saying dutifully: “Goodby, this world,” then grabbing the leftovers of Potter’s apparating magic, dutifully following… the bloody fool.

  
The end.


End file.
